He had a Schwinn Roadmaster the kind with the fat tank along the crossbar that held batteries and had a little round chrome button to sound the horn
Some mornings he let me sit sideways along that crossbar he seemed so big and strong to pedal for the two of us as we headed for the Chestnut Street School— a first-grader and a big sixth-grader
That was the last time we were going in the same direction at the same time the last time we were on the same path
We've traced one another's footsteps here and there crossed paths on other occasions often out of synch going to or coming from different places
There were places of learning of worship of recreation of work of living— a cat's cradle of our travels our quests through space and time
How glorious to recall a September morning when we were going the same way as brothers!